This Land of Monsters

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This Land of Monsters Page 17

by Tim Gabrielle


  “You ready for this?” Sullivan asked Scott and Meghan. They stood beside him wearing their riot gear, their faces obscured by the face shields.

  “As ready as we’re going to be,” said Scott.

  “I wish you would have left with Dianna,” said Sullivan.

  “No way in hell,” said Meghan. “You’ve been good to us and kept us safe all this time. If we die, we die together.”

  “Why don’t we send a scout or two out into the woods, see what they can see?” Stu suggested.

  “No,” said Sullivan. “He’s been casing out these woods for a while, at least a month. He’s handed us a death sentence.”

  “It’s been an honor,” said Stu. He held his hand out to Sullivan, and Sullivan ignored the outstretched hand. Instead, he pulled Stu in for a tight hug. The two stood embracing for a moment before Stu released himself.

  Sullivan joined the sentinels on top the RVs and scanned the area with a pair of binoculars. It was hard to see very far due to the dense forest, but the trees were one of their best lines of defense against whatever was coming. He handed the binoculars to one of the sentinels and climbed down the ladder to the ground and exhaled deeply as he placed his feet back into the dirt. Everyone stood silently at their posts not knowing exactly what to do or what to expect. Including Meghan and Scott, fifteen people stayed behind to help defend the Treefort. Sullivan addressed them quickly, went over last minute strategy plans, and let them know that if things got rough, they were expected to try and escape into the woods. They each shook his hand and felt the frustration and anger that flowed from him as his giant hand covered theirs.

  Far in the distance, they could hear the sound of transport trucks barreling off down the dirt road as Sullivan stood in the center of the Fort, second-guessed his decision. He tried to think of other possible options to have dealt with the threat but came up with nothing.

  A crow cawed in the distance, followed by the great calamity that would bring the Fort to its death. With slicing precision, four arrows flew through the air and landed in a soft spot of each of the sentinel’s riot gear. All four of them fell backward into the Fort and landed hard on the ground below. They writhed wildly on the ground and gasped for breath as blood pooled and sprayed from the arrows that stuck out of their throats.

  Each of the remaining members of the Fort took cover and watched in horror as the four sentinels turned. One by one, three of the deceased sentinels stood and released a monstrous howl while tearing at the riot gear. The forth got up slowly and stumbled like a fawn standing for the first time. He stood still, looked at his riot gear, and softly tapped it with his hands.

  “Everyone, be alert!” yelled Sullivan as he took a shot at one of the newly formed howlers. A howler towards the east side of the Fort screamed once before he latched onto one of the younger Fort defenders. The young man, Edgar, Sullivan thought, grabbed at his open throat before he sank to his knees—mouth opening and closing in surprise.

  Sullivan could barely spare a second to watch Edgar’s body twitch once more before it stilled. Sullivan knew it wouldn’t be long before Edgar got back to his feet, either as a howler or a slowpoke. He sighted in Edgar’s form but couldn’t get a solid shot off to keep him from rising so he turned away to focus on more pressing matters.

  Another sentinel stood, eyes wild with arms outstretched. Stu and another man charged towards it. They tackled it to the ground, and Stu plunged his knife into the back of the howler’s skull.

  “Son of a bitch!” Stu’s partner screamed. He pulled his hand away from the howler, skin hanging off his wrist.

  Stu closed his eyes momentarily before he took the man by the shoulder, “Try and take some of them down before you turn.” And then Stu was up and running towards the main fire at another howler. He sliced into the raging creature just as a large metallic mass careened over the fence and landed in the fire.

  Sullivan held his breath, not daring to look away as the projectile erupted into flame engulfing Stu, the howler, and a number of other Fort residents. Their screams echoed around the empty Fort as the first licked at their flailing bodies.

  The smell of his burning friends sent a wave of nausea through him as he moved towards their charred bodies. Flames licked the ground around him as one of the burning men stood up behind him, its skin blackened from the fire as it tore flaming pieces of flesh from its body. It let out a violent scream before it lunged at Sullivan with its flaming lips gnashing wildly. Sullivan reached out and grabbed it by the throat to stop its advance. Flames bit at Sullivan’s arm as he planted his knife through the howler’s temple before he tossed it to the ground. His arm was alive with burning pain as he surveyed the dying fort.

  He grabbed one of the grenades from his belt and pulled the pin before he tossed it over the fence in the direction the firebomb had come. It exploded with more ferocity than he had expected and blew open a part of the fence. Screams of pain came from outside the Fort. The fire from the grenade caught quickly and spread from tree to tree across the dry, crackling ground.

  Sullivan sent a stream of bullets through the remaining portions of the fence as the forest fire continued to expand. The members of the Treefort were falling quickly, as he watched them run wildly through the dying Fort. One of the newborn howlers sprinted into the woods through the broken fence and sank its teeth into one of Fletcher’s men as he fell to the ground. A loud, ear-piercing screech came from behind him, a scream he thought he recognized. He swung around with his rifle held in front of him as his heart sank into his stomach.

  Meghan knelt over Scott, her face nuzzled against his neck as she tore at his flesh. Sullivan cried out again, hardly able to comprehend what was happening around him as Meghan swung to face him. Her beautiful, sparkling eyes were now red and full of madness, blood and gore hanging loosely from her lips. She screamed violently at him and the flesh fell to the ground as Sullivan squeezed the trigger of his rifle and placed a bullet between her eyes with trembling hands.

  He hoped he’d somehow be able to save Scott but knew it was too late. Meghan’s body had fallen backward on top of him, their blood pooling around them. Scott looked up at Sullivan with an open-mouthed grin. The gaping wound in his neck pulsed, gurgling as air passed through his windpipe. The life drained from his eyes and he died with a smile on his face as he looked up at Sullivan with empty eyes.

  Gunfire obliterated the fence around him and he dove to the ground as bullets whizzed above his head. He grabbed a grenade and threw it to the back edge of the fence where the bullets were coming from. It exploded wildly and sent debris high into the sky as the air filled with screams again. He rolled sideways and narrowly avoided a falling piece of flaming fence as he unleashed another barrage of bullets into the woods. He used his free hand to pull the pin from another grenade as he continued to fire his rifle. He rolled a grenade through the exposed fence into the burning woods The sounds of agony continued to crash all around him like sonic-waves, amplified by the explosion.

  The woods behind the Fort was empty, filled with downed trees and growing flames. He heard voices near the front of the Fort as he sprinted past the mangled fence and into the flames, feeling them lick his skin as he passed through. Before anyone could see him, he ducked behind a large tree and pressed his back against it.

  He peaked around the tree and saw a group of seven men flood into the Fort from a section of the fence they’d torn down. He gave them time to search the area and confirm that nobody was left alive inside before he pulled the pin on his last grenade and tossed it into the area where they stood. He took off deeper into the woods and listened to the blast echo through the woods.

  The creek was deserted, void of any of the slowpokes that had previously dotted the banks. Even Sammy was gone, which left Sullivan alone as the Fort burned behind him. He heard a thud nearby, followed by an earth-shattering explosion. His life at the Treefort flashed before his eyes, the loss clawing at his insides as the flames from the blast cascaded acros
s his face. He fell to the ground, looking straight up into the blue afternoon sky wracked with sobs. He could see a cloud as it floated softly in the sky above the waves of smoke that billowed upwards. He gazed at it, and in his stupor he could see Dianna’s face as his mind faded to black.

  Chapter 19

  Nash awoke in a frenzy with Melissa’s arms around him.

  “You’re ok. We’re in the back of one of the transports,” said Melissa.

  It took his eyes a moment to acclimate to the darkness of the transport truck.

  “Duncan,” he whispered.

  “Yeah,” said Melissa as she placed one of her hands into his. “How are you feeling?”

  “My head is pounding.”

  “You fell pretty hard after he hit you.”

  “How long have we been moving?”

  “An hour, maybe?”

  Her features were barely distinguishable in the darkness of the trucks. He could feel the presence of all the others trapped with him as they sat quietly in their own despair.

  ****

  The truck came to a stop and shut off its engine, which gave way to the sound of motorcycles in the distance. Sounds of the dead swarmed nearby mixed in with the loud, high-pitched roar of racing bikes. After a few moments, the sounds of bikes and the dead tapered off into silence, followed by the truck engine roaring back to life.

  The trucks rumbled down the unseen road as Nash propped himself up on his knees beside Melissa. They struggled to keep their balance while the truck plotted along the bumpy road. They could hear muffled voices outside as it came to a final stop, the people in the front cab letting out a chuckle as they shut off the engine and stepped out of the cab. Footsteps tapped on pavement alongside the truck, followed by the sliding of the door being opened which sent bright afternoon light into the back of the truck.

  “Welcome home, fuckers!” yelled Duncan as he stood in front of them all with a smile on his face. The Treefort residents blinked into the sunlight, their eyes tearing.

  Nash and Melissa stared back at him in silence.

  “Dial it back a bit, Duncan,” Fletcher ordered as he joined him at the opening. “I want these people to feel welcome here! Please, everyone, join me in the light.”

  Duncan reached his hand out with a grin to help Nash out of the truck. Nash batted it away and hopped onto the hot pavement before he helped the rest of them down while Duncan stood directly behind him. Fletcher reached out and gently maneuvered Duncan backward, sensing his anger toward Nash.

  “Please, follow me, everyone,” said Fletcher as he and Duncan walked to the front of the truck. The group waited for Nash to move first before they followed Fletcher. Everyone from the back of the first truck had already been unloaded and waited for Nash’s group to join them.

  “Everyone okay?” asked Dianna with red eyes.

  Nash nodded to her as his group settled in beside hers. Fletcher stood in front of all of them, Duncan leisurely sitting behind on a park bench.

  “Take a look around,” said Fletcher, hands in his pockets as he talked. “It’s not nearly as bad as you’d imagined, right? Again, I’m sorry for the crude transportation. Everyone okay from the ride?”

  Most of the group stood motionless with the exception of a few who acknowledged him with a nervous nod. Nash kept his eyes firmly trained on Duncan, who stared back at him with a grin.

  “Is this going to become a problem?” asked Fletcher as he looked over the top of his glasses. Nash and Duncan silently challenged each other as Fletcher frowned.

  “Not one bit,” said Duncan with a wink at Melissa. She ignored him and took Nash’s hand, gently pulling him closer to her side.

  “I think it’ll be for the best if you move on your way for now, Duncan,” said Fletcher without turning toward Duncan. Duncan’s smile faded as he sat with his arms resting along the back edge of the bench. “Whatever differences you two have had in the past can be sorted out at another time. I won’t have either of you spoiling everyone’s first day here.”

  Duncan begrudgingly stood and tried in vain to mask his frustration over being ordered away.

  “You’re the boss,” he said.

  Fletcher readjusted his sunglasses and stepped forward to where Nash was standing. “I know enough from what he’s said that there’s history between the two of you. I also know that there’s two sides to every story. If you can mind your manners here, I’ll make sure he minds his. Fair enough?”

  Nash stared back at him until Fletcher stepped back to where he’d originally been standing.

  “I’m sure you’re all wondering what these are,” said Fletcher as he held up his left wrist and pulled down his sleeve to reveal a red strip that hung loosely from his wrist. Nash looked around at Fletcher’s men and realized they all wore the same strip. “This is the sign that you belong to my family. I realize a lot of my former family members ended up wandering around your camp in the last few months. Why they made their way so far from here, I’ll never know. Apparently they were a little more adventurous in their death than they were in life.”

  “Do a lot of your family members end up wandering dead outside your walls?” asked Dianna with a stern look on her face.

  Fletcher looked back at her with a clever smile as one of the truck doors opened and slammed shut.

  “That’ll have to wait for another time, my dear,” he said, looking toward the truck as footsteps approached. “Dietrich, my boy! Welcome home.”

  Nash’s body tensed as the person came into view from the other side of the transport truck. He was covered in moldy, tattered clothes and his dreadlocks still hung loosely behind him.

  It was Sammy.

  “Dietrich’s an invaluable member of my family here,” said Fletcher, soaking in the shock he could see flowing from Nash. “There’s only a few of you who would know who this man is, but he’s the one who initially found your little group and volunteered to keep watch until today.”

  Nash stared at him and felt betrayed by the man he’d once referred to as Sammy. For a moment, as he stared at his mud-soaked figure, he thought he caught of a flash of remorse in Dietrich’s eyes.

  “So,” said Fletcher with a clap of his hands. “Let’s get a move on, shall we? My men will escort you to your new homes. As you can see, this little township you’re standing in was a little on the ritzy side and I’ve made sure to keep it that way. Just because the outside world has gone to shit, doesn’t mean we can’t live like royalty!”

  Fletcher was right; the houses situated inside the walls were large and luxurious, easily able to give all of them much more room and privacy than the Fort had been able to offer. The homes were the beautiful, well maintained structures you’d find in Home & Garden. Surrounding the entirety of the community was a large brick wall with guard towers located at each corner. At the front and back of the wall were two entrances, both sealed with thick, reinforced iron gates. It seemed far less maniacal than any of them had imagined, but Nash could tell the Mansion had been built to keep people in just as much as it had been built to keep people out.

  “As much room as we have here, the houses will have to be shared by multiple families. Couples and families will be kept together, so please, do not worry over such things. I’d like to personally meet with all of you later in the evening, so settle in and feel free to explore the town. Each of your homes has a working clock, so please make sure to be at the church at 5:00, sharp. Until then, make yourself comfortable.”

  Fletcher disappeared into the back of the BMW as the armed men took the front seats and drove off down the road before they parked in front of a church near the middle of the compound. It was the kind of church that could easily be found on a country postcard, with a tall steeple that gave way to a large meeting place behind. Fletcher and his men walked together to the front steps to join an angry Duncan. A sharply dressed man opened the large double doors for Fletcher and his men as they approached and let them disappear inside before he closed the doors and cont
inued his watch.

  “I know this is a lot to take in and you’re all probably quite nervous,” said Dietrich, with a voice much more calm and pleasing than Nash had expected. “Nash, please come with me. The rest of you, know that you’re safe, and allow these men to escort you to your new homes.”

  “Are the guns really necessary?” Dianna asked.

  “Everyone stand down,” said Dietrich. “These people are unarmed.”

  Fletcher’s men put their guns away and ushered the group towards a large group of houses. Dianna glanced at Nash with a grimace before allowed herself to be ushered along. Nash looked at Dietrich with as much hate as he could muster. Melissa clenched on onto Nash’s hand tightly as he glared at Dietrich.

  “You have no reason to trust me right now, I understand fully. Please though, come with me. The home you’ve been assigned to is more removed than the rest and I’ll take you there.”

  With noticeable hesitation, Nash moved toward him while he still held tightly onto Melissa’s hand. A man in a tattered flannel shirt and jeans opened the back door of an idling black BMW and motioned them to climb in. Nash stopped in his tracks as the man smiled at them while rapping his fingers on the handle of a large knife that was sheathed on his belt.

  “Oh for goodness sake, I said to stand down,” said Dietrich to the man that held the door open. The sound of motorcycles once again began to register, followed soon after by a riotous song of the dead. “Get ready to let the runners in. I’m sure Fletcher doesn’t want any mistakes like last time.”

  The man scowled at him and made his way toward the front gate and fiddled with a large set of keys as he moved. Dietrich gave another one of his kind smiles and opened the back door for them as he motioned politely again for them to get in. Nash and Melissa slid into the back of the BMW as Dietrich shut the door behind them. The leather seats were surprisingly cool, the air conditioning circulated throughout the cab. They allowed themselves to enjoy the cool air until the moment Dietrich opened the driver’s door and sat down. He put the car in gear and drove toward the church where Duncan and Fletcher had disappeared.

 

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